


Negative Reinforcement

by cagestark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Enemies In Lust, F/M, Female!Tony Stark, Hate Sex, Iron Maiden!Toni, Super Enemies, Toni Stark - Freeform, Violencee, Winter Soldier!Bucky, dub con, minor blood play, mortal enemies, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26821528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cagestark/pseuds/cagestark
Summary: Toni and the Winter Soldier have been dancing around each other for years. At last, Toni has a leg up on him, and she doesn't plan to let him forget it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 134





	Negative Reinforcement

“If you wanted to tie me up, you only needed to ask,” he says as soon as her thin, tanned fingers detach the mask from the lower half of his face. The dangling fluorescent light in the storage room that she had ambushed him in throws her features into sharp, near hellish relief. It shouldn’t be flattering in the slightest. But his cock is hard where it’s hidden beneath his tactical pants just from the sheer proximity of her. From the  _ smell  _ of her—sweat, expensive imported body wash, and beneath all of it, yes,  _ arousal _ . His nostrils flare, mouth creeping wide in an expression he is sure hardly mimics a smile. 

Toni Stark reaches out and presses the pad of her thumb to the broken skin above his left eye. Pain blossoms bright and sharp, and he groans. 

“Harder. Do it harder,” he pants, laughing when her smile falls. 

“Sick fuck,” she mutters, pulling her thumb away. It is wet with his blood, and for a moment (maybe one that is so quick she doesn’t notice it, not without his enhanced perception skills) she lifts it towards her mouth as if to suck it clean. A groan rumbles in his chest, fading when she changes course to wipe the blood on the tight undersuit she wears beneath all that metal. “Don’t pretend you’d ever give me anything I wanted from you.” 

“But I would,” he counters. “If you’d  _ beg for it _ .” 

There’s no mistaking his tone. This song and dance number is well-rehearsed between them; wherever one of them goes, the other is never far behind, and then they fight like it’s foreplay. Her eyes flicker down to the obscene bulge in his pants. Her chest stutters, breaking the rhythm of its rise-and-fall. Oh yes, this woman might be made of iron, but iron beneath his hands would bend like butter. She would curse him and hate him and beg him for more, and—he would give her all of it and  _ more _ .

“I’ve begged enough in my lifetime,” she says, her eyes blazing. “No more. You have one chance to tell me where Hydra has hidden the rest of the serum.” 

He stares at her flatly. This is always his least favorite part—the one where they have to pretend to care about anything besides beating each other bloody and driving the other mad. 

Also, interrogations bore him.

“Or what,” he wonders. 

Toni’s grin is unhinged. “Test me and find out.” 

“I’ve seen real monsters, little girl,” he says. “You don’t scare me. How much longer are you going to pretend that you hate me? That you want me dead? Admit it: you stopped trying to kill me years ago. That or...you’re not nearly as smart as Hydra made you out to be.” 

Toni’s sharp jaw clenches, teeth grinding against each other in a way that fills him with barely concealable mirth. There is nothing better than getting under this woman’s skin; except maybe getting inside her, he imagines. Between his legs, his cock aches. He works to disconnect himself from it, to focus on her face as it smooths and clears, those clever dark eyes a screen through which he can see that shadows of the ever-whirring cogs in her head. 

“You’re right,” she says at last. “I  _ don’t  _ want to kill you.” 

His eyes narrow. 

“Because death doesn’t scare you, does it?” she says. Reaching up, she fingers the zipper of her undersuit, and his eyes can’t help but fall to follow the motion before flickering back up to examine her expression, working to anticipate her words before she says them, working to see the very thoughts inside her head. “Pain. Torture. Loss of limb—none of that bothers you. None of it could phase you, could it? Hydra has trained you well.” 

Suddenly, she is tugging down the zipper, the sound of the metal teeth parting loud in the otherwise silent room. He watches, fighting to keep his neutral expression as her tanned skinned is exposed: collarbones, her small breasts bound close to her chest by a compression band, her stomach and the curve of her thighs until she stands before him entirely naked save for the fabric around her chest and the black thong that covers her sex. 

His eyes devour her. He can’t imagine the expression on his face, but if it hints at anything he feels then it must surely be feral. 

He feels... _ starving _ . 

“What is this meant to deter me from?” he asks, eyes raking over her skin, committing every inch of her to memory. 

She stalks closer, bare feet padding against the concrete floor beneath them. Reaching out, she runs her fingers through his long hair, returning only to grab harshly by the roots and jerk his head back until his throat is bared to her. Forced submission. “Maybe  _ this  _ will teach you to be more generous with your information.”

She climbs onto his lap. 

The heat of her is tangible through all of his layers. He breathes in deep to take in the scent of her. So many months they’ve spent on each other’s tail and this is the closest she’s ever been to him—those are the breaks when your mortal enemy is an aerial specialist. How many nights he dreamt of shooting her down from the sky, peeling that armor off of her and fighting her hand to hand. He would wake with his cock in his fist, throwing himself over the edge of ecstasy. 

“Untie me,” he growls. “I can smell the way your cunt is dripping. Release me and I’ll fill places inside you that you didn’t even know were empty.” 

“ _ No _ ,” she says.

His entire body jolts as he pulls at the restraints she had bound him with. But it is no rope or normal steel, and he stays fastened in place. The thin veneer of civility between them snaps and he feels full of fury so poisonous that he wants to smother her with it. “Then you’ll get  _ nothing  _ from me,” he snarls. “Tell that to your hungry little cunt. You don’t deserve to cum.” 

“Bold of you to think that you can stop me,” she says, lips curling in a smirk that makes him see red. Then she is shifting so that instead of hovering over his cock, she is straddling one of his muscled thighs. Toni lowers herself until her cunt is pressed against him, searing him through his clothes. 

Then she begins to ride him, dragging her burning sex forward and backward. A groan slips through her lips and it incenses him, nearly drives him to madness. She doesn’t deserve for him to make her cum—but undeserving or not, she will take it from him. When one of her hands falls onto his shoulder, nails digging into the leather of his vest, he turns his head and snaps at it with his teeth, sinking them into her skin, feeling blood fill his mouth with salt. 

“ _ Fuck _ !” she screeches, ripping her hand away to look at the perfect lines of his teeth, the blood that beads against her tanned skin and drips down her wrist. Her eyes narrow as she bares her teeth at him. When she slips off of his lap, there is a dark stain where her slick has soaked the fabric of his pants and his legs tug at his bindings on instinct. At this point, he isn’t sure if he will fuck her or break her neck when he frees himself, but he can hardly wait to find out. 

Toni returns with the mask she had discarded. 

“Now I see why they make you wear this,” she says, fastening it in place. Then she takes her wrist and smears the blood across where his mouth would be. “ _ Harder _ ,” she mocks before straddling his thigh again. 

She begins a hard, slow pace. Either she is always this vocal or she is playing it up, her head tilted back to let breathy sounds of ecstasy reverberate off of the concrete walls around them. Every sound makes his cock throb even as his jaw aches with how hard she clenches it. 

“God you feel good,” she grits out. He doesn’t know where to stare: at her breasts in front of his face or down at his lap where she is soaking his pants. “Been thinking about this for ages, about getting you under me. Fuck, yes, keep tensing like that, it feels so good.” 

He relaxes the muscles of his thigh out of pure spite. Through his tactical pants, he can feel her slick now. Behind his back, his hands clench into useless fists, bones creaking with the force of his fury, of his absolute ache to break his binds and press her down onto the floor, rip through the fabric of her underwear and sink himself into her. 

“But you want to know something?” she continues, panting around each word as her rhythm increases. She lets her head tilt forward again so that their eyes can meet. “You’re right. I feel so fucking empty, Soldier. It’s been so long since I’ve had a real cock inside of me; I bet that serum enhanced everything, didn’t it? I bet I’d feel you in my fucking throat.” 

“Fucking bitch,” he says behind the mask. “You don’t deserve my cock. But one day you’ll get it. On every last one of Hydra’s heads, I swear: you’ll  _ take  _ it like the whore you are.” 

“But not today,” she breathes, grinning. She lets her thighs keep her balance while she takes her hands from his shoulders and pulls at the band around her breasts, working it down until it rests beneath them at the trimmest part of her waist. His eyes don’t roll back, but only because he wouldn’t dare miss a moment. Her breasts are small, tipped with light brown nipples that are beading into points that must ache. One of her hands holds on to him so that she can resume the filthy slide of her cunt along his thigh and the other plucks at her nipples, pinching and tugging without mercy. 

Her moans begin to grow in volume, desperately pleased sounds that she emits with every sighing breath. Back arched so that she can drag her clit along the length of his thigh, she abandons her breasts so that she can clutch at his shoulders with both hands. 

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” she gasps, perhaps more to herself than him. “Fuck me, I need it. How does your thigh feel better than any of my toys?” 

_ Because it is mine _ , he thinks viciously.  _ Because you are mine. _

Then at last she sucks in a breath and freezes, body turning to stone where she rocks against him, her mouth slack and eyes shut, lashes resting dark as soot against her cheeks. All at once, she comes back to life, letting out a keen that he commits to memory, that he vows to remember even if he must kill to do so to avoid that thought-scrambling chair. She rolls her hips in the mimickry of sex as her thighs spasm around his own. 

Against his will, he wonders how it must feel inside of her, to have her cunt clenching around him. 

_ One day _ , he promises to himself. 

Toni shakes like a leaf where she is perched on his lap, helpless little sounds sticking in her throat as she rides out the last tremors of pleasure. When at last she has taken her fill of him, she steps down from his lap on coltish legs. Both of their eyes fall to his pants and the obscene line of wetness she has left. She is everywhere now: in his nose, in his chest, on his clothes. He can’t root her out. 

“Thank you, Soldier,” she says, limbs still shaking. It takes her a few tries to get back into her undersuit, every inch of tanned skin being taken away from his eyes. “I’m sure that has given my AI plenty of time to hack this old base’s security system. Even if there are no hints at where the last of the serum is, I’m sure there will be  _ something  _ of use left behind.” 

“You’ll regret that,” he says, voice low and quiet. Maybe it makes her shake. Maybe that’s just leftover from the orgasm she ground out on his thigh. 

She taps the center of her chest and her armor blooms around her. When she speaks, her voice is slightly disembodied but no less smug. 

“Maybe,” she says. “But not today.” 

-

The moment the door shuts behind her, the Winter Soldier strains once against his bindings and feels them twist and crack. He can still hear the sound of her repulsors as she exits the building while he reaches down and drags one thumb through the wetness she left behind on his pants. Removing the mask, he licks the slick—and blood, from where she had smeared it against the surface of his mask—from the digit. 

The Soldier stands, replacing the mask and wonders how far a head start he should give her before he makes 'one day'  _ today _ . 

  
  
  



End file.
